“No. Don’t worry, dear. He gets like this sometimes. I’m so glad you dropped by. Seeing your face reminds me of happier times. When you smile, you look so much like your mother.”

“I miss her,” Sarah said softly.

“Me too.” Silence fell over them. Just the distant sound of Uncle Phillip banging around in his study. Then Auntie Jane straightened her shoulders. She seemed to come to some sort of decision. “Sarah.” There was an urgency in her voice. “There is something you need to know—” A door slammed, jerking both of their heads in the direction of the hallway where Phillip was fast approaching. “Later,” she whispered, then busied herself with the latching of the picnic basket. She looked demure as always, the dutiful wife incarnate, but Sarah could see a stubborn set to Auntie Jane’s jaw that spoke of rebellion. Sarah hoped so, not only for Auntie Jane’s sake, but for the small granddaughter who was living with them as well.

56

“I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Clarke is not in the office at present.” Mr. Clarke’s secretary smiled at him perkily.

“Yes. I am aware of that,” Mick replied. “Mr. Clarke is with Sarah Rainsford. I was supposed to go with her, but I got held up at a meeting.”

“You must be mistaken,” Hannah said helpfully. “He’s not with your friend. He had to go to his home in Westchester. His wife needed his assistance with something. A plumber or gardener, I can’t remember.”

Mick had wiped his face in the elevator, but he couldn’t do anything about the cold sweat congealing under his jacket. He kept a pleasant smile on his face even though his insides were vibrating with tension. “Ah, yes.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s right. I was supposed to meet them there. Mr. Clarke and his wife are contemplating selling the family home and making the apartment in New York their residence since the”—his brain scrambled through conversations with Sarah, then flashed to the photos on Phillip Clarke’s desk, tossed up a Hail Mary, and went with it—“boys are grown. Sarah remembered the lovely old home from visiting as a child and wanted us to take a look at it since we are relocating here.”

“Oh!” Hannah brightened, her mouth shaped into a little circle. “How wonderful. I’ve never seen it, but I heard it’s simply beautiful.”

“However, I’ve misplaced the address.” He smiled at her with all the boyish charm he could muster. “You wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

“I do! Here, let me write it down for you.” She called up Phillip Clarke’s address on her computer, scribbled it down on a piece of notepaper, then handed it to him. “There you are. Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” Mick replied. “You’ve been so helpful.” He spun on his heel and headed for the elevator.